


Averhild Blackshire

by GoofALot



Category: Original Work, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood and Gore, Flirting, I try to keep up with lore, Wrath of the Lich King, a story about my dk oc, how she became a dk, warning for bad grammar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofALot/pseuds/GoofALot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lich King has awoken and is raising havoc. The Scourge has awoken, their numbers raising with an alarming rate, both in the Plaugelands and Northrend. This is the story about Averhild Blackshire, how she trains to become a tool to defeat the Scourge and it's ruler and how she eventually ends up as a death knight, and how her mortal life has some twists and turns in store for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad footwork

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is pretty much a original/fanfiction work about my dk character Averhild and her road to becoming a death knight, how she lived and looked before her undeath, about her past and so on. I'm pretty much painting her out in text her m'kay?
> 
> Just to avoid some confusion, this story takes place meanwhile the Lich King is raising dead soldiers and turning them into the third generations death knights. Pretty much at the beginning of WoTLK when the Argent Dawn and the Alliance and the Horde is realising that shit is going down in the shape of the Scourge. 
> 
> I don't own any characters except for Averhild, the other belongs to Blizzards wizards.

The sound of clashing swords dominated in the courtyard of the training grounds of Old Town. Alliance soldiers in training. Recruit against recruit, experienced against recruit and experienced against experienced. And occasionally a dummy would get demolished because of the rampage the trainees would unleash upon the poor thing as the cause of being yelled at by Comander Carver for their bad footwork or defences. Demotion to meet a dummy made out of wooden planks and hay imitating a human being wasn't exactly exhilarating.Loud shouts were heard all over the training grounds, and one particular name was heard a lot this day. 

''Your feet soldier Blackshire, you are grown like roots to the ground! If you are so eager to die you might just as well drop your sword and get on your knees in front of the Scourge soldier, keep those feet moving and I want to see some passive aggressiveness Blackshire!''

Soldier Blackshire, a female soldier whose name was Averhild. A woman at the young ripe age of 20, fashioning a petite and feminine bodyframe, became a soldier, against all odds. In her young years, Averhild was often sick and some said she wouldn't even make it to her tenth birthday. The priests who had been watching over Averhild since she was a young child got quite the shock when she chose to pick up a sword instead of continuing her medical studies, with a possibility of becoming a priestess. Instead of sitting pretty reading medical books, she wore a rusty, worn armor and wielding a sword, desperately trying to dodge blows from the male recruit that was her opponent.

''You have been hit by three killing blows already Blackshire, up on your feet and take a break, observe the others and there will be a smoulder of hope that you will have learned something today!'' 

Aevrhild flinched a little at Commander Carver's words, his voice boomed all over the training grounds. What to be expected from a Commander though. Averhild knew she had bad footwork, she just needed to practice, that was all. With her armor clunking and rattling, Averhild sat down on one of the few benches lined up against the wall that surrounded the area of the traning grounds. 

''So, getting yelled at by Carver again huh? Must happen on a daily basis as of now huh, Aver?''

''Oh you know how much I looove it recruit North.'' Averhild rolled her green eyes so high they might have rolled into her skull had she tried a bit more. No one liked being yelled at by the Commanders, while the other recruits watched with a judging gaze. If there was no improvement, you'd be a liability, and no one wanted a nuisance in their group, then you were as good as ghoul-bait, and then it would be worth it to leave that person behind on the battlefield.

Paxton North, a good friend of Averhild ever since she joined the army. The young man was a few years older than her but also had a lot of more training and experience in his book. He was quite handsome if Averhild would say so herself. Blonde long hair tied in a knot, sparkling blue eyes, a strong yaw and a broad frame to accompany with that. The man every woman wanted. Not that Averhild had been checking him out. Not at all.

''Your footwork were just fine last week, what happened now little boarslayer?'' Paxton tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow at her. He reached for Averhilds pointy ears and tugged at the right one. Averhild just gave Paxton a weird and annoyed look and swatted his hand away. As far as Averhild knew she was born with oddly pointy ears, much like and elf's but much shorter. She didn't give it much thought though, she didn't know her mother nor her father.

''I guess I'm nervous and focusing on just one thing but maybe I should not focus because then I lose my focus and-.''

''Annnd, you are rambling again sis. Yes, you're nervous, we all are. We are all being dispatched to the Plaugelands, not the most pleasant places on this planet and it's infested with the Scourge and other pleasant dead things such as rabid hounds whose saliva will melt your face of. Oh and by the way it's called the Plaugelands.'' 

Paxton shrugged and let out a deep sigh. Yes, the Plaugelands, the epitome of death and decay, embodied in a continent so infested it couldn't be saved despite Argent's Dawn many tries to save and cleanse the land. Priests, paladins, druids and shamans had tried to save some of the land but it was futile, the land was rotten and infested. The land was dead to the core and if you stayed there for too long you'd pretty much become insane and become meat for the living horrors of the land.

''The name itself makes me want to cower away and hide in a dark hole. It also holds one of the largest Scourge populations. We're just being sent there as bait, and I bet we're just going to be benched and sit around all day studying old reports. The sword is just going to be for show and I'm going to feel lucky if I even get to pick a bone with a dummy.''

Averhild frowned and grit her teethe. She just shook her head. She didn't want to be stationed at some post, hold it for months, only to become bait for frisky Scourge patrols or wait until the pollution would make her sick and slowly kill her until she died by the age of 30.

''You might get lucky though, I heard that a few will be dispatched to Northrend.'' Another male recruit, Emi Samuels, approached the two. He was man in the age of Averhild, though with more scars upon his skin than the two young soldiers, currently sitting on the bench of disappointment.

''How come Samuels? Reanimated dead, walking corpses, raised by the Lich King is causing our king and other leaders to get their knickers in a twist?'' Paxton chuckled. It was obvious that soldiers would be sent to Northrend, a monstrously huge undead army and crazy necromancers didn't exactly signalise ''we mean no harm''. 

Samules snorted and shook his head. ''Doesn't it bother you that if you get into the heat of battle and die because of ghouls that will rip you with infected claws which might, and probably will, cause you to die a painful death to later be revived by a power hungry, extremely powerful, presumed dead, has been prince that want nothing more than turn us into mindless undead slaves?''

Paxton scratched his neck and let out a nervous laugh. Yeah, it was outright scary and creepy. For a second Paxton felt like standing up, take of his training armor and settle down somewhere in Elwynn Forest so that he wouldn't have to deal with slobbering undead beings that wanted him nothing more than dead. Or worse, eat him.

''Do you know when we will know who will be dispatched to Northrend or the Plaugelands?'' The mention of Northrend had spiked Averhilds interest. It might seem as a bit weird for a young female, Alliance loyal, ''believer'' in the Light recruit/soldier to get excited about the mention of the Scourge and it's frozen homeland. While Averhild had been studying the theology of the Light and it's remarkable healing properties, she became incredibly interested in the arts of necromancy ever since she heard about the tales about the king on a frozen throne, controlling a massive undead army and just raising more. In the eyes of others this was a perverse interest and Averhild could be seen as a traitor for her odd and dangerous interest. Especially since she had sworn an oath to the Light and the people of Stormwind.

''Tomorrow....I think, yeah we will know tomorrow who will go where. I heard that they even deemed the situation in the Plaugelands more dire than Northrend despite it being the very godforsaken homeland of a undead army. Renewed undead activity is making the Argent Dawn squirm'' Samuels stroked his short beard and tapped his foot on the ground. ''You should be nervous either way, and pray that you get to go to the Plaugelands, because there it's less likely that you'll end up dead in three weeks or a month in that frozen hell. Anyway, training's done for today.''

All soldiers bid goodnight to each other and Commander Carver. The other soldiers slept either in the bunkers in Old Town, their own homes if they lived close by the training grounds, or as Averhild, who had her own room right beside the huge library in the Cathedral of Light. She had been living here ever since her, supposedly, mother left her on the stairs of the majestic building. She had been raised in the orphanage right beside the cathedral, but a priestess named Ellie became fond of her and wanted Averhild to live in the cathedral. Over the years Averhild had been telling herself that her mother loved her and only wanted her best, that's why she had left Averhild by the door of the huge cathedral. She had grown up among very loving and kind people and learned a lot through the years of medical practice alongside Ellie and the other priestesses and clergymen. 

After mass and a pleasant midday meal, Averhild returned to her small room, consisting of a bed, a bedsidetable and a wardrobe with a mirror on the inside and an old ornate stool. In the middle of the farthest wall there was a window letting in the daylight. While others went to sleep, and Averhild pretended to be, she brought a small, beaten, black metal box from under her bed. In it laid several books that had been re-dressed as religious studies, though they contained reports about the Scourge and it's affinities, some noted members and affiliations such as the Cult of the Damned. Her favorite book was a small one, consisting of personal notes and necromacial rituals. While others might have enjoyed more joyful bedtime stories, such as those about the Holy Light, Averhild downed facts about necromancy and dark like a hungry wolf.

Averhild had even been able to steal reports on the most noted leader of the Scourge, murderer of his father and slayer of his subjects, Prince Arthas, the Lich King, himself.


	2. Melancholical Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woop woop here an update! I've been having a bit of a writers block and I've been busy with uni but here's the nest part of Averhild's story. It might be going forward a bit slowly now but I promise more things are going to happen in the coming chapters. English is not my mother tongue and there is a big possibity that there is a lot of grammatic faults in the text so I'm sorry in advance for that.
> 
> Anyway, I've been working hard on this so enjoy C:

As everyone in the cathedral, Aevrhild awoke early before sunrise. Even at this time, only the older priests and priestesses were up, and some of the orphans that had been taken in by the church. Aevrhild had gone to the kitchen to fetch her breakfast, a simple vegetable soup with some bread and fruit. During all her life living in the cathedral, Aevrhild had never experienced that she'd go hungry, or that the food was bad. She considered herself very lucky since there were those who'd never get enough food for the day or shelter from the night.

A majority of the women that joined the army usually cut their hair short and kept it that way because there is no need to have a long hair that signalised unmarried maiden, when you were out fighting for your people's safety and came home with gore and blood splatter upon your armour. Aevrhild had kept the length of her auburn hair. She tied it up with a braid at the back of her neck so that it formed a bun, with her bangs hanging right above her eyebrows. If you wanted to keep your hair long but practical this was one of the ways to keep it out of the way.

The recruits had been told to come to the training grounds in simple clothing because they would get real armours today. Not just crappy old, rusty training gear but actual armour that would increase the chance to evade a death blow from a mindless, living corpse.

All of the recruits lined up and formed a square formation on the training grounds. Everyone stood very still, barely daring to breathe out of expectation and fear. The Scourge was a monstrous army that was to be feared. The recruits were faithful for their king and the lands people, and wanted to fight for a lasting cause, but the tension was so thick in the air you could literally cut through it with a sword as if it was hot butter.

Averhild felt as if there was a snare around her neck, slowly tightening and it felt like a hand was moving around and clenching her stomach. But aside from the nervousness there was excitement. Unlike the others in the group, she wanted to go to Northrend, she really wanted to. Maybe she wasn't completely alone with that thought, but the people that had that thought mostly wanted to go there so that they could meet the Scourge head on and slaughter as many as possible. Not because they wanted to witness one of the largest armies created through necromancy and dark magic throughout Azeroths history out of pure fascination.

''Recruit Blackshire, believe it or not but you're going to the frozen hellhole. Remember, this is an investigating mission with the Argent Dawn so I don't want to get reports of foolish, heroic attempts, and that goes for everyone!'' Commander Carver directed his iron gaze to a few unfortunate in the gathered crowd of recruits and Averhild found herself unable not to gulp and look away. 

''Those who are going to Northrend, be ready by the docks early tomorrow morning, don't be late because then the next boat wont be here until next week which means that you'll get to muck the stables as punishment. Wagons will wait outside Stormwind tomorrow, pack well, the journey for the Plaugelands is long and dangerous. Make sure to say proper goodbyes, you might aswell already be dead and that's the harsh reality soldiers. Dismissed!''

After the dismiss, the now new soldiers were given proper armour and weapons. Averhild and the others who were dispatched for Northrend were given fur rimmed capes. Expected since Northrend wasn't exactly Stranglethorn Vale during the rain season.

''So, going to that cold hellhole are you, little boarslayer.'' Paxton wandered up to Averhild in a slow almost saddened pace. It was clear that he wanted to make a joke, but he was going to be sent to the Plaugelands, so they were to be separated, and there was a big risk that they wouldn't see each other, ever again.

''Yeah, but I don't mind the cold weather, although it might be more than what we bargain for, I'll either go to the Borean Tundra or the Howling Fjord. I've heard that there'll be mammoths'' Averhild grinned. She had heard some stories about those big animals, covered in fur and with big tusks wandering the plains of Northrend. She had seen elekk's before, but not this mammoth creature.

''They're not tame and with your bad footing there's a chance you'll trip and fall instead of running away from them if you disturb the mothers' calves''. Paxton smirked and snickered. Averhild gave him a hard punch on the side of his arm and snarled as she stood up on her toes to smack the man at the back of his head. 

''I'm certainly not going to miss you smacking me up my head anymore young lady!'' Suddenly Paxton grabbed Averhilds thighs and lifted her front first over his shoulder.

''Paxton North, by the Light, put me down, this isn't how you treat a woman!'' Averhild wailed and flailed her arms and legs all over the place, hoping that it would make Paxton let her go and put her down on the ground. The commotion the two of them caused brought the other soldier's attention to them. Some just shook their heads while others burst out in laughter. Laughter would be a thing much needed since all of the soldiers would be going to such dark and mellow places. Laughter in the training grounds were not a common thing, and it relieved some of the stress that had been building up throughout the entire gathering.

Eventually Paxton let Averhild down, and as she reached to smack Paxton up the head again he was quick enough to stop her in time. ''So, will I see you tomorrow before we head of to Scourge infested lands?''

''What, you're going to miss me young lady?'' Paxton tilted his head and grinned mischievously.

''Pfft, don't be silly! I wouldn't ever miss that smug face of yours, perhaps only when I get the stinky breath of a ghoul on my face, yes, then I will miss it.'' Averhild grinned widely before she turned on her heels. She could almost see at the back of her head how Paxton shook his head. 

The armour was heavy and clunky, making a lot of noise as is moved around while Averhild was carrying it back to her home in the cathedral. When she entered the church, the priests and priestesses she met smiled at her, though their eyes bore a hint of sadness. A lot of soldiers who went away rarely came home, and those did was either able to handle the after effects of a brutal clash or battle. Some went somber and followed a downward spiral, along with a serious wound or pure psychological trauma, becoming a mindless being of their own. 

''There we have our soldier, Averhild, it has been some time hasn't it Laurena?'' Averhild was stopped right in her tracks by one of her medical trainers, Shaina, on her way to her room. Besides her stood the High Priestess, Laurena. Averhild had talked to her some and found that the High Priestesses' masses to be some of the best, because they consisted and revolved more around the choir and songs then priestly teachings about the Light. Not that the songs excluded the phenomenon but Averhild enjoyed the choir much more than reading about the first paladins over and over.

''Ah sister Averhild, or should I say soldier Blackshire? You'll be wearing the Stormwind tabard when away in the Plaugelands I presume? ''

''I am to take the early morning ship to Northrend, not the Plaugelands. It's not clear yet if we are to wear a tabard or not since it might attract some unwanted attention. It's just an investigating mission. However we will be carrying a badge if allies would be doubtful of our involvement.'' 

''I thought they were sending those with healing properties to the Plaugelands, will you be your groups' priestess then sister?''

''Probably, although I might just be an assistant medic though.'' The talk about aiding the group in Northrend as a healer and spiritual leader made Averhild nervous. She knew that the church had hoped for her to become a paladin or a priestess but it had been difficult for her. Averhild still had her difficulties finding faith in the Light. She had seen it manifest in rings of holy magic, glowing text and runes in books and the raging might in a paladins hands. The Light had however, never made it's presence from Averhilds own belief and faith. 

''We will all pray to the Light that you will return home safely, I hope that you will find the Light in your heart so that it may aid you in coming battles sister.'' With a slight bow Laurena walked away, having other duties to attend to, being the High Priestess afterall. Shaina had turned to her own duties, either checking the bandage and antidote stocks, sewing more bandages or making a kit for Averhild to bring with her to Northrend. The latter was quite likely.

Averhild made her way to her room. With an analysing gaze she looked about the room. What would she need to bring? A set or two of warm clothes and some books couldn't hurt. She pulled out a backpack from underneath her bed along with the metal box containing the books about necromancy and dark arts. She grabbed one of the smaller books, containing knowledge about minor spells and tucked into a pocket to the side of her backpack, where the risk of someone finding it being very small. Averhild also put a folder about the Scourge at the back of her backpack, now that she was going to the very home of the undead army.

Despite almost wanting to go to Northrend, a nervous feeling settled in Averhild. She would go far away from her own homeland, to face the real Scourge, servants of the Lich King, as well study the land. The small expedition would also wander further up into the snowy lands of Dragonblight to investigate and explore, which was very likely since a small team of scientists and archaeologists would come along as well.

Averhild went to bed with an uneasy, nervous feeling. It felt like a sickness, like fear had manifested into a virus and held a steel grip on her. The expidition was to wander right into the maw of the beast, then of course the least you could be, is scared. Scared, of a possibly horrid death.


End file.
